knownoguilt (knownoguilt) wrote in v_nocturne_rpg, @ 2009-08-25 20:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | simon alexander |
One Event of Note.
From the personal records of Simon Alexander.
August 25th, 1891
While it should go without saying that I am a man well versed in the curious weavings of the universal wyrd, I must confess that some nights ago I stumbled upon an experience which even now leaves me ill at ease when I recall of it.
The specifics are not necessary as I know I myself shan't soon forget, and it would be my preference for the details not to be known by whomever may someday come upon these writings. Suffice to say that I was subjected to some piece of imperceptible wizardry which evaded my notice until it was passed and gone, and what insidious unease is left with me! For this metamorphic hex did electrify in me an aspect with which I am most comfortably unfamiliar and this aspect in of itself elated to the point that all reason and self preservation fell by the wayside as all of my heart and soul devoted itself to this new intent! My rational mind unable to deny what coursed desperately through me, and my actions dragged along their ragged course by a heart that no longer obeyed reason nor it's master.
It was a pathetic and womanish drive, left oft' unsatisfied, prickling with irritation and anger, and even to my usual demeanor overly incendiary. Most unforgivably, it left in me a lingering haze of warmth. The final wisps of some passing opiate which I do not wish to partake in but somehow invaded the air I breathe. Briefly (and mark this well, for this moment did come and go in the very definition of brevity!) did the thought occur that I could have lived an entire life as I did then. A life, which while wholly intolerable to all my rational senses, did contain some strange serum of unique contentment which I doubt my own will ever come upon again.
So even in my recollection of this night am I troubled. In light of this I may attempt some hesitance before the night next entreats me out into some fine and fair gathering at a public arena. Beyond that there is little true impact of the night save that I have invigorated my dislike for the street boy whom has been so curiously persistent in not departing from my life.
There is little else of note which has passed these last few days. The subject of my earlier work is no longer suitable to be continued upon, and my notes taken are about as thorough as I am able with this caliber of sample. I have removed and preserved those anatomical parts of note, and tomorrow I will dispose of it.
All cats are doing well. I have finally named them. The eldest is still Simon Alexander (in keeping with my noble family tradition of course!), the second is Babylon, and the third, Persephone. I do not allow them to leave the house, and they are all faring well.
Oh absent listener you must now excuse me, for my soul is crying out for of all things, a distraction.
Adieu.